Redemption Made Easy
by Cadence
Summary: Jet, less dead than previously suspected, ends up at the WAT after participating in the invasion. He can't decide what's worse when Zuko shows up, how much he still wants Zuko or how much more the GAang likes Zuko than Jet himself.
1. Chapter 1

Story Title: Redemption Made Easy (Or Not)  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: none

Summary: Jet, being not dead, has trouble coping with the sudden reappearance of Li at the WAT. He doesn't know what's worse – how much he still wants Li or how much more the GAang likes Li than Jet himself.

Notes: Thanks to M for the beta. Originally written for the jetko_exchange on LJ.

* * *

The Duke's raucous laughter rang down the stone corridor of the Western Air Temple, followed by the halting wood on wood sound of Teo's overstressed brakes and a loud clatter as the pair of boys slammed into the far wall.

Jet tensed as he listened, shoulder blades lifting away from the wall he leaned against. That Teo kid was trouble. Smart, he had to admit, but trouble. They'd barely been free one day – Jet wasn't even remotely ready to say safe – and already he was trying to get The Duke killed.

"Again! And faster this time!" The Duke shouted.

Jet forced himself to settle back against the wall, feigning nonchalance. He slitted his eyes and tilted his head back, as if trying to doze off, ears sharp just in case.

Haru turned from where he had been examining the Air Nomad murals. He planted a fist on his hip and glanced down the hall to where Teo careened past, The Duke riding exultantly on his shoulders.

"Don't you think we should stop that?"

"They're kids," Jet said lazily. He plucked the stem of long grass from his mouth, pursing it as he gave Haru a long look. "They deserve some fun after what they've been through."

"I guess we all do," Haru said. He rubbed his hand over that stupid mustache. Jet tilted his head back again, ready to ignore him, when Haru directed a mild, contemplative look toward Jet himself. That did not bode well. "So, I was talking to Katara last night."

Jet felt his spine stiffen. He crossed his arms over his chest, grass stem crushed in one hand.

"You did, huh?" he asked, voice as smooth as he could make it.

He didn't like to think what they would have been talking about. After Lake Laogai, he'd been well aware that he wasn't welcome anywhere near Katara or the Avatar. And he knew he deserved that, after what he'd done by himself and after what he'd been programmed to do. It wasn't that goodbye that had been so bitter. No, it had been leaving behind Smellerbee and Longshot in Ba Sing Se that stung. The cold disappointment in Longshot's eyes that made Smellerbee's anger all that much more searing. But he couldn't be there – not in that place, that toxic fucking city. So he returned to his forest and if that had been the end of it, if he hadn't let Pipsqueak find him and talk him into that suicide mission of an invasion, he wouldn't be here.

He wouldn't be wondering if the first thing that came up when Katara talked about him was trying to drown a village or ditching his friends back in Ba Sing Se only days before it fell. Haru seemed like a good guy, and those were the exact kind of folks who tended to judge people like Jet harshly.

"She said they had a visitor come by yesterday," Haru said. Jet stared at him. That was not good. "Looks like Aang might have found a firebending teacher."

"What you mean," Jet gritted out, "is that the Fire Nation _found us_? Already?"

And no one bothered to tell him.

Jet cast a look down the hall. The Duke was kneeling down next to Teo's chair, making some adjustments while Teo advised him. They had to get out of here. If the Fire Nation was coming, then they weren't safe. He'd just find a way back home, grab The Duke and head for the forest.

Haru chuckled lightly, hands raised amicably when Jet glared at him.

"What?"

"You sounded like Katara," Haru said. "Just not as angry."

At least someone had their wits about them. Jet shook his head. He didn't see anything funny about this. He was already stalking down the corridor, ready to haul The Duke out of here, when an explosion rocked the temple. Jet wheeled his arms, struggling to keep his balance. He looked back at where Haru stood, firmly rooted in place.

"The Fire Nation," Jet spat.

Apparently Haru wasn't enough of a nice guy to dispute the conclusion. Together, they ran down the hall to Teo and The Duke. On this side, the hall opened up into a larger, vaulted room with hinged shutters clearly designed to twirl in the wind.

A second explosion echoed through the ravine followed swiftly by a huge, thunderous crash. Jet pushed The Duke behind him and stepped up to the shutters, watching in shock as a great cloud of dust cleared from the overhang nearby to reveal the jagged stump of where a pagoda once hung. It had fallen off the cliff side entirely.

"We should go help!" Teo said.

Jet planted a foot directly on his wheel, braking it as effectively as anything. Simultaneously, he grabbed The Duke by his collar.

"Why don't we see what we're fighting first?" Jet asked casually.

"Jet's right," Haru said, although he did look disapprovingly down at Jet's foot. "If whatever it is can mess up the temple that bad, we need to know what we're dealing with."

A cute way of saying that the Avatar would handle it and they'd just get in the way, Jet thought resentfully.

They waited, watching for the enemy airships that didn't come and for the force of firebenders that just didn't seem to be in the temple. Jet could see the bright flecks of blue that represented Katara and Sokka on one of the other pagodas – this one more rumble strewn than any of the other ruined. The bright yellow and saffron of Aang was there too, even the green of the earthbender girl Teo and Haru had pretended to go look for to explore these halls. There was someone else too, in black. Jet strained his eyes trying to figure out if it was the firebender Haru had mentioned before, but he didn't wear the distinctive armor or the blazing red of a uniform. Whatever else he was, the group did not treat him as an enemy. The group came together and then dispersed with none of the deliberateness or speed of a fight.

The battle, it seemed, was already over.

* * *

It was worse than Jet thought.

He stood apart from the group, seething as he watched the Avatar and his friends tuck into lunch. Katara was nowhere to be found and, thankfully, neither was the firebender.

The Fire _Prince_.

How the fuck that had happened, Jet had no idea. He'd heard stories about the royal family all his life, how they personally involved themselves in planning military movements down to the last massacre. He'd seen what their princess did on the Day of Black Sun and he'd heard more than plenty about their prince. The guy who had betrayed Ba Sing Se and doomed Longshot and Smellerbee even more than Jet himself had.

All Jet's rage on the topic had come to nothing. Or not nothing, because Sokka had looked at him with more pity and disgust than ever before while Aang tried to placate him and Toph just snickered. Jet had cast about, trying to catch Haru's eye, trying to will Teo to have an opinion, but it probably wouldn't have mattered even if they took his side. The decision was clearly made and they more than obviously didn't care what Jet thought of it.

With no allies, Jet jammed his chopsticks straight down into his bowl of undercooked, crunchy rice and stalked off to brood.

Sokka was just serving himself seconds of his own bad cooking when Katara came out from the interior of the temple. Jet's eyes scanned over her, taking in the aggravation in her step and her irritated, downcast gaze. She walked over to the fountain in short, quick steps, too upset even to bend. Instead she splashed water directly onto her face, huffing out angrily as she combed her fingers through her wet hair, pushing it from where it hung in her eyes.

Her brother was a lost cause, but Jet knew that he still had a shot convincing her.

Jet waited, watching as Katara breathed in and out, trying to manage her anger. It was only a partial fix, obvious from how she turned to glare at Aang and how he quickly buried his face in his bowl, trying to avoid her ire. She marched over to the cook pot and seemed just about ready to lay into Sokka for messing up lunch when the real source of her anger arrived.

Li.

Jet watched in shock as the firebender carefully made his way to the cook pot, his shoulders hunched under Katara's glare. He stood a respectful distance – more than respectful, almost timid – from Sokka, peeking out from under shaggy hair as he took his lunch.

Jet's feet took him forward before he was even thinking about it. Maybe it just looked like Li. Pale skin and dark hair were common features. What mattered were his eyes, his _scar_.

Jet was halfway there, walking in a jerky stupor when the firebender straightened, a glower coming over his face as turned, hand going instinctively for the swords on his back.

The firebender's eyes were the sharp golden color that still haunted Jet, his face marred by the vivid, ugly scar of a long healed burn. It was him.

"What do you want?" Li snapped. And then he faltered, hand dropping off his sword hilt as his own eyes widened in recognition. His voice was a thin, surprised rasp, "_Jet_?"

"Wait. You two know each other?" asked Aang. He looked between them, smile wide on his face, boyish enthusiasm entirely out of place. Jet felt disoriented looking at him, his stomach dropping down and then coming back up as he tried to process what was happening.

Li was here. Li was the Avatar's new firebending teacher. Li was the Fire Prince.

That didn't make any sense.

"We met on the ferry to Ba Sing Se," Jet said harshly. His shuang gou were in his hands and he didn't question how they had gotten there. He stepped forward, poking the curved side of the hook into Li's chest. "Although I get the feeling he wasn't exactly honest back then."

Li pushed the blade off his chest with one finger, expression flat and hostile.

"No, I wasn't. But then, you already knew that."

Jet snapped his blade back up, all but ready to demand a rematch. Li was the reason he'd been through _hell_.

"So lemme guess," Katara threw in, voice casually biting. The tone was startling come from her, and that was even given that Jet knew he brought out the worst in her. Second worst, compared to Li, apparently. She continued, waving a hand between the two of them, "He betrayed you and you'll never forgive him."

Li blinked rapidly. He relaxed, shoulders dropping and hands falling to the side as he looked questioningly at her.

"How'd you guess?" he asked.

Katara rolled her eyes.

"Between the two of you? It's inevitable."

"The question is more who betrayed who," Sokka added.

Jet felt his anger rear up inside him. He turned, waving his shuang gou in Sokka's face.

"_He_ did! Li's the reason the Dai Li arrested me! He's the reason they brainwashed me! They never would have taken me under Lake Laogai if not for him."

Li moved in front of Jet, coming in between him and Sokka. His feet were placed apart, ready for a fight, hand held before him in a firebending pose Jet had seen so many times before. Li glared at him, while Sokka looked torn between bemusement at the turn of events and actual appreciation that Li would defend him. Jet didn't know which was worse.

"First of all, that's not my name. It's _Zuko_," Li said.

"I know that," Jet all but snarled, and it was weird to think that he did, to connect the name of the banished prince with _Li_, who he couldn't stand and he couldn't get out of his head even now.

"And secondly, you attacked us. Unprovoked! All because Uncle Iroh was firebending his _tea_!"

A murmur passed through the group. Sokka and Aang shared a look – one that amounted to "sounds plausible" – while Toph crossed her arms. Katara's stony expression didn't flicker. She apparently had no patience or sympathy for either of them. At the same time, from the corner Jet least expected it, there was support. Haru's amused indifference had suddenly turned serious.

"_General_ Iroh?" he asked.

It was Toph who answered, throwing a disdainful but inaccurate look in Haru general direction.

"Who else? How many Dragons of the West do you think there are?"

"Toph," Li – Zuko – the Prince – said warningly. He had an edgy, cautious look on his face, anticipating the coming fight.

"_What_?" she asked. "It's who he is!"

"It's what makes him a war criminal," Haru said tightly.

The Prince looked angry at the accusation, but didn't attack. He darted a look back toward Aang, toward Sokka, desperate to explain. And Jet saw, dishearteningly, that he didn't have to. The boys rose, standing beside the Prince in an uneasy, but still obvious show of support. In turn, Haru strode to Jet's side. Teo and The Duke looked between the assembled sides in confusion.

It was Katara who stopped them from making the choice.

"Enough!" she called out. Her waterskin was uncorked, eyes sparking furiously as she came between the two groups. She poked her finger into Jet's chest, leaning up threatening as she told him, "The decision's already made. I don't like it either, but _you_ are not going to change it."

"We'll see about that," Jet said. "I know you think I'm right."

Katara's eyes narrowed, but she didn't deny it. Give me time, he thought. He knew she'd come to his side.

She shook him off, turning toward the Prince.

"And _you_," she said, voice low and deadly. "You already know what I think. I think it's best if you get out of here." She waited a moment, very grudgingly adding, "For the moment."

Or forever, if Jet had anything to say about it.

* * *

The Prince retreated to let them argue, Jet's eyes following him as he went. He stifled the urge to charge after him, fight him, shake him to find out who the hell he really was.

Jaw clenched, he tuned out most of the argument around him, listening in just enough to know this wasn't his moment. If he forced the issue now, he'd be out on his ass, either up in the forest on the cliff or down the ravine. He didn't like his chances. He fucking hated waiting, but for the moment, it was the long game. He could see the doubt in Haru's eyes, the lingering anger in Katara's. No way would a firebender's presence soothe that away.

Jet left the others to argue some time after the Moon Spirit was brought up, figuring if he got out quickly he'd avoid more talk of Ba Sing Se. He wouldn't have to think about the seething, yawning gap where his memories were supposed to be, or the cold pull of guilt when he considered what he'd left behind.

After a few false starts, he found the corridor where Sokka had been handing out rooms the night before. Somehow it hadn't stuck for most of them; instead of sleeping in their rooms with four relatively sturdy walls around them, the Avatar and his friends had gravitated toward the fountain, camping there oblivious to the sheer cliffs and deadly drops. Jet wasn't afraid of heights by any means, but there was something to be said about the comfort of solid rock. He'd stayed in his room with The Duke and he knew both Teo and Haru had done the same.

He stopped cold in the hall way, looking toward his room, hands balled at his side. They were all down this hall. And which room, he wondered, belonged to the Prince?

Jet hushed his steps, walking toe-heel, as carefully as he would to hunt in his forest. He crept silently down the hallway, peering into the unoccupied rooms one by one. Maybe he'd get his chance to settle this.

"Looking for something?" Sokka asked. His hand fell heavily on Jet's shoulder, startling him. Jet gritted his teeth and cursed before seamlessly turning an innocent, offended expression Sokka's direction. It was clear Sokka didn't buy it for a second. He jerked his head toward a hallway leading deeper into the temple. "Come on. You're with me."

Sokka was already half way down the hall when Jet's sluggish feet decided to follow. He was sure he wasn't going to like this. In the time since Jet had arrived back with the group, he and Sokka hadn't exactly made friends with each other.

After silently following Sokka down three twists and branches in the air temple corridors, matching his every casual, indifferent stride with him own, it finally occurred to Jet that Sokka had no idea where the hell he was going. He'd had no more chance to explore than Jet – less, actually, with the battle yesterday.

Jet reached out, skimming the wall with his fingertips. It was dry, untouched by mold, but more than a little dusty. He rubbed the dirt between his fingers, casting a look in Sokka's direction, watching him walk with narrowed eyes. Light still reached here through numerous clever little windows in the side of the cliff and up above. The Air Nomads had preferred not to rely on torchlight. Jet could appreciate that.

"So, Sokka, something on your mind?" Jet asked as they took another turn deeper into the temple.

"Not much."

Right. Because it was just his way to be taciturn and apathetic. That was the Sokka Jet remembered.

"Anything you want to say to me? Or are we just taking a long walk for no reason?"

Sokka sighed, coming to a stop. He turned to face Jet, stepping into a shaft of light filtering in from above. It illuminated his whole face, serious eyes and hard set jaw.

"A lot, actually. You might have noticed I don't like you much."

"I did notice," Jet replied. He tilted his head to the side, shrugging off the words. Lots of people didn't like him. So what?

"And I don't like Zuko," Sokka continued. "But I like Aang and I'd kinda like to defeat the Fire Lord. So here's my thing. Don't fuck that up for us."

Jet didn't reply. He had every intention of fucking that up. Frankly, in his opinion, there were a lot of better uses for the Avatar than a one on one fight against the Fire Lord – and who in their right mind even thought that would end the war? All the troops would just shut up and go home because the Avatar said so? Hadn't worked so far. Aang could be in the Earth Kingdom, fighting the war that needed to be fought, instead of wasting his time learning firebending.

Sokka stepped forward suddenly, hand on his sword and anger bringing high color into his cheek. Maybe it was a long walk after all.

"I'm serious, Jet. Zuko may be our only shot to stop his dad before the comet comes and if you jeopardize that in any way, I don't care what you've been through or why you think you are doing it. I will put you down."

Jet ignored the nonsense about a comet, glaring back fiercely.

"You don't know Li," he said. "He'll betray you. What good can the Avatar do if he's dead?"

Sokka just shook his head.

"And you don't know Zuko."

He dropped his hand from his sword, already walking away.

Jet stood there fuming for a moment before calling out, "Where are you going?"

"Hunting." Sokka threw a look over his shoulder. He raised his eyebrows at Jet. "Unless you took a lot of rice with you for the invasion, we kinda need to find some food. I hope the Air Nomads knew their way around pickling, or we're in a lot of trouble."

They worked in methodical silence, although there were a few moments where Sokka seemed to forget himself, humming a bored, out of tune little work song and stopping now and again to curiously examine the paintings on the walls instead of searching the bins and jars for food. And then, shaking himself, he'd straighten and send Jet a quick, surreptitious look, as if expecting Jet to leap out and stab him. It was exactly those looks that made Jet _want_ to stab him.

As it turned out, the Air Nomads did know their way around pickling and canning and, most importantly, dry storage. Jet and Sokka found enough provisions to last their little group for months, if they didn't mind going meatless, anyway.

For tonight, though, the meat was courtesy of the Prince and greeted with gracious smiles from all around the campfire. Even Katara was polite enough to offer her thanks before serving herself one of the meager portions of duck available. The Prince had planned ahead, but not much, only bringing enough for himself and the uncle he _thought_ he'd be bringing with him.

He'd brought a steamed, glazed ginger cake as well and apparently knew just enough about diplomacy to offer it when Iroh's name came up again. Slightly staled from its time away from the palace kitchens, the cake was nonetheless devoured with the speed only teenagers could produce. Their mouths were too busy being stuck shut to complain start up that argument again, although it was clear that Haru struggled for a moment, trying to fight the thick syrup shutting him up.

Jet picked at his food, eventually giving it away to The Duke. He'd lay snares tomorrow, maybe even join Sokka on a real hunt. Or maybe not, since he wasn't sure he'd be able restrain the temptation to strangle Sokka and leave him in the woods. Jet rolled his eyes to himself. Then they'd _really_ be mad him.

Swallowing and chewing eventually turned to awkward silence. With The Duke falling asleep against Jet's arm, it was the perfect time to get out of there. He stood, hauling The Duke up to his feet and then when he still slouched against Jet, he grabbed him and threw him over a shoulder. Two fingers held to his eyebrow, he saluted and made an exit.

The Duke collapsed on the narrow pallet set underneath the window in his room. Jet pried his helmet off, setting in next to the bed. He had a brief, weird impulse to tell The Duke to go wash his face and he frowned to himself as he forcibly let it pass. He wasn't The Duke's mom. They'd never done that back in the forest. They were free there, doing whatever they pleased, living without rules. Jet saw no reason to change.

Instead he reached out, ruffling The Duke's hair.

"Long day, huh?" he asked with a slight smile.

"The longest. Good, though," The Duke mumbled. He blinked sleepily up at Jet. "Hey, Jet. What are we doing tomorrow?"

"Whatever you want."

The Duke nodded, already dropping off. Jet glanced toward his bed, set up near the door, and then slid his eyes over, looking down the long hall. He'd lied, of course. The Duke could do whatever he wanted, but Jet had plans and they involved a certain firebender.


	2. Chapter 2

The Prince slept with his door open. If it was a show of respect, then he'd have to do better than that, and if it was an attempt to bare his throat, then Jet was hardly going to waste the opportunity.

He lurked in the doorway, eyes adjusted to the dim starlight filtering in through the window, casting the Prince's pale features in gray and deep purple. His hair was a slick black, falling over his eyes and sticking up in odd places as he shifted in his sleep. It was a calm, even sleep marked only by occasional rustling and movement. There was no deep seated conflict, no nightmares, no nerves. The Prince was content.

Which didn't mean a damn thing, Jet thought sourly. He glared across the room, wishing for a tell, something to give away the Prince's intentions, and was rewarded only by the other boy stirring slightly. He moved onto his side, face toward Jet, sheet falling away from his bare torso.

Jet tried to swallow against the sudden dryness in his mouth. With effort, he managed to rip his eyes away. He scanned the rest of the room, eyes taking in the small portraits set onto a small chest the Prince had scrounged up from somewhere. Jet's room certainly didn't have anything that fancy. He squinted, trying to make out the features of the portraits. One was clearly his uncle – even in _this_ light Jet could make out that man's round face in the broad strokes of ink. If he'd only known back on the ferry that he was traveling with the Dragon of the West…

He shook off the thought. He was trying not to get angry here. Between Sokka's warnings and Katara's death glare, he knew he couldn't let himself get carried away, not like before. Besides, attacking now wouldn't prove anything. He'd have a dead firebender without any idea what his larger plan was. They'd be completely unprepared for the attack when it came.

Jet crept into the room, trying to stay on task. Next to the portraits there was a bag. Exactly what he was looking for. He slunk forward slowly, carefully placing each step to hush his footfalls just as he would in his forest as he paced a Fire Nation patrol. Out of necessity and nothing more, he let his gaze fall again on the Prince. Jet's eyes raked up his body, the sharp jut of his hipbone and the firm muscles of his abs, all the way up to his face. Still asleep.

Good.

He knelt down, heels off the floor to spring up at a moment's notice, and opened the bag widely. His hands went deep inside, trying to feel for papers or vials or anything that would give away the game. He felt clothes and more clothes.

Growling to himself, Jet flung it away. The war balloon! That had to be where the Prince was keeping … whatever it was.

Jet stood and several things happened all in a rush. He glared down at the bed, locking shocked eyes with a clearly awake and alert prince, and immediately set a foot backward into a defensive pose. The Prince stepped from his bed, sinuously and suddenly pressed against Jet. His chest was against Jet's, his fierce eyes looking _down_ – since when was he the taller one? – and the tip of a sharp blade pressed against Jet's throat.

"What are you doing?" the Prince asked. He almost sounded conversational, annoyed rather than angry or surprised. And since Li's default state had always been angry, Jet had to wonder exactly why he was accustomed to this kind of treatment.

Jet's eyes flicked down, just enough to see the weak, tired grip the Prince held on the knife. He moved quickly, hooking his foot behind the Prince's to knock him off balance while he swatted the blade out of his hand. The Prince tumbled backward and Jet pounced, pinning him to the bed. He grinned ferally down at him. Much better vantage point.

"I'm trying to figure out what you're up to," Jet said.

Li – Zuko – the Prince responded by kneeing Jet in the kidneys. Jet clutched at his side, falling off the bed. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could but already the Prince was looming over him, kicking out his feet and wrestling him to the ground. Jet's head connected hard with the stone floor and he blinked spots from his eyes. The Prince's expression was resolute, his hands firm as they pinned Jet's wrists to the ground.

"You've not proving me wrong," Jet managed.

"I'm not 'up to' anything," the Prince hissed. But, really, Jet's point was made. Doubt passed over his face and he released Jet with a disgusted huff. He turned his back, going to find the knife that had been lost in the scuffle.

Jet took his time standing, eyes on the Prince's back. He was slouched, uncertain, and that brought grim satisfaction to Jet.

"I'll figure it out eventually," Jet announced. He stuck his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, ignoring the lingering pain in his side as he turned to leave. His foot struck something as he moved, knocking over one of the portraits. Jet gave it a bored, incurious glance. It looked like a woman. He walked to the door, looking over his shoulder to give a final, serious look. "And then I'll make you pay."

The Prince wasn't even paying attention to him. He'd closed the distance to the portrait in a split second, snatching it up and carefully inspecting it for damage.

When he looked up, the anger in his eyes was clear even in the starlight.

* * *

Jet tried to lay low the next morning.

He stared into the blinding blue of the sky as Teo swooped through the ravine. _Somehow_, and he couldn't say sure he'd been awake for it, The Duke had convinced him to let Teo take him up for a ride.

Jet's eyes itched and his head ached – it felt hollowed out and tight in the way only sleeplessness could provoke. He hadn't gone back to his room for hours after his confrontation with the Prince, pacing restlessly in agitation. What little sleep he got was unsatisfying and filled with images of the Prince, sprawled out beneath him on the bed. Waking up with his dick stiff against his leg, he squeezed his eyes shut once more, angry at himself. Of all fucking people to be attracted to.

Breakfast, games, and letting The Duke chatter in his ear about his much more pleasant sounding dreams followed. The Prince and the Avatar left halfway through breakfast, off to train, and Jet stared after them as they went. Katara caught him looking, so he smiled and waved back, shrugging to signal that she'd caught him, and then he made sure to pointedly let The Duke drag him off into the temple.

Problem solved. Or, it would have been if he could stop thinking about it.

There was that unsettled nervous tension, again, the one that had driven him to stalk Li back in Ba Sing Se, driven him to attack, and ultimately delivered him right to the Dai Li. He'd almost died of it, had his brain scrambled for his trouble, and _still_ he couldn't let it go. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Jet gritted his teeth, hands tight on the stone banister as Teo did another loop through the canyon.

He knew full well what was wrong. His parents had been murdered, his village burned, every good thing in his life destroyed by the Fire Nation, and as much as _he_ wanted to do better, he knew full well that just wasn't going to happen while they were still out there, making some other kid go through the motions of his shitty life. So it didn't really matter if the Prince said he was "good", or the Dragon of the West was a "really nice guy". Jet was living proof of their crimes.

Footsteps sounded down the long corridor, jolting Jet from his thoughts.

"Sokka?" Katara called. She squinted in Jet's direction, into the bright sunlight. Another step forward and the eager, cheerful look on her face vanished. Her back straightened and she crossed her arms. "Oh, it's _you_."

Jet raised his eyebrows, voice mild, "I'm beginning to feel unwelcome, Katara."

"Good," she huffed back. A smile twitched at the corner of Jet's mouth and he mimed an arrow through his heart. She glared for a moment, trying to get across how cute she _didn't_ find him, but Jet could already see she was crumbling. She looked away, grudgingly admitting, "I don't mean that."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Katara's temper flared.

"I think I know what I mean, Jet!"

He shrugged.

"It's just…" he looked away, rubbing a hand across his mouth ruefully before meeting her gaze with an apologetic look."I know I can't make up for what I did to you. If you want me gone, I'll go."

Katara looked floored. She blinked rapidly, trying to process what he'd said. Just to sell it a little harder, Jet let out a little sigh, turning to go. And as he'd hoped, she reached out, stopping him with a hand on his arm.

"Jet, wait." He turned slowly, feeling her hand drop away. She was looking down, arms crossed around her middle. "You don't need to make up for anything. After Ba Sing Se, everything changed, especially me. I haven't been fair to you."

"Katara…"

"No, let me finish." He was more than happy to; he hadn't had anything else in mind to say, and if she let him talk now it'd probably be pretty awkward. Her eyes were bright when they found his. "That ends now. You're part of our group now and you've been a big help – the invasion, helping Sokka yesterday, taking care of The Duke. I'm sorry for how I treated you."

Jet reached out, chucking her under the chin as he smiled at her.

"Already forgotten. So, you were looking for Sokka?"

Katara startled as she remembered. She stepped away from him, pushing her hair back from her face as she looked around for her brother.

"I thought I saw him heading toward where Aang is training," Jet added helpfully.

A scowl immediately crossed Katara's face; Jet suppressed a smile.

"Well, if that's where he wants to be, he's welcome to it."

Despite the snippy tone, she sounded uncertain. She wanted an excuse, and Jet was more than happy to provide one.

"Not sure that's safe," he said. He rolled his head on his shoulders, looking at her slantwise as he pretended to stretch. "I thought I might head over. Back Sokka up."

Katara narrowed her eyes at him and Jet looked back unflinchingly. Now was not the moment to oversell it. After a long moment, she sighed, worry creasing her brow. She rubbed one hand between the thumb and forefinger of the other, as if massaging away pain.

"Maybe that's a good idea. Aang and firebending isn't a great combination."

Jet gave one last look to the canyon – Teo had gone in for a landing on one of the nearby temples, he and The Duke were visibly grinning even from a distance as they zoomed around – and then flung out an arm, happy to let Katara lead the way. He walked only a few steps behind her, watching as the light played over her face, broken by the stone lattices that covered the windows in this temple. She was quiet and purposeful as she walked, eyes always searching for the bright bursts of fire that would give away where Aang was. Worry knit her brows together and maybe some of her footsteps fell heavily with anger, but it was a relief for Jet to realize none of that was directed his way.

"This is nice," he said without thinking.

Katara gave him a weird look.

"Searching for Aang to save him from Zuko's lessons is 'nice'?" she asked. She sounded confused, but not angry, not suspicious. Jet smiled at her in return.

"Spending time with you is nice," he said. "Putting the past behind us is nice."

Her eyes flew wide in surprise and she turned suddenly, walking away. Jet jogged to catch up.

"It is nice," she admitted as he drew up next to her.

Around the next corner, the lattices fell away – well, probably the Fire Nation had blown them away – and the full light of morning fell across the walkway. Looking up, Jet could see another temple platform, right up against the ravine wall, where Aang and the Prince were practicing. Sokka was on the narrow bridge connecting the two temples, already on his way back.

Katara hurried to meet him.

"Is Aang okay?"

Sokka took a moment off from glaring at Jet to roll his eyes at his sister.

"Zuko set him on fire and threw him over the cliff. Why do you think I left?"

"Sokka!"

"It's fine," he assured her. He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. "Check it out yourself if you're so worried."

Katara straightened.

"I will. Lot of help you are."

"Later, jerks," Sokka said. He did a little turn and stretched out his arms as he strolled away down the corridor.

"Well, that was unnecessary," Katara said under her breath. She caught Jet's eye. "Come on."

As they approached the landing Aang and the Prince were practicing on, Jet began to make out the distinct sound of frustration. Aang was seated on a large outcropping of rock, flicking pebbles into little divots that he'd decided were a game board. He looked bored and antsy, a broad grin spreading across his face as he sighted Katara. Nearby, the Prince dropped into a defensive pose, face hard as he looked only at Jet.

"What are you doing here? We're training," the Prince said.

"Yep," Aang said. He sighed. "Training away."

Katara gave him a quick, sympathetic hug and then stepped back. She waved a hand at the Prince.

"Well, get to it. The faster you can train Aang the better."

The Prince got a shifty look on his face – not threatening shifty. Embarrassed shifty. He covered it with anger.

"It would be _faster_," he enunciated, still looking at Jet, "if you weren't here."

Katara's expression hardened.

"It's not like you firebending at us is anything new. I'm sure you can just slip right back into your routine."

The Prince wheeled around on her, hackles up.

"I'm trying _not_ to do that! I don't want to be that way anymore!"

She shrugged one shoulder.

"Prove it."

The Prince let out an aggravated growl, turning away from her and stalking over to the far side of the platform, then back to glare even more.

Jet gave Katara an appreciative look.

"Very nice," he said. He leaned against the stone Aang was on, drawing one leg up and resting his arm on it lazily. He cocked his head toward the Prince, off mumbling to himself as he tried to calm his temper. "Do you think that was a good idea?"

"I can handle him," Katara said tightly.

"I know," Jet said. He nudged her shoulder and she relaxed, just a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear and smiling.

Aang watched them with a disturbed expression. Disturbed and jealous. Jet filed that away, figuring he'd probably have to deal with it eventually. He needed Aang on his side here, and if he thought Jet had intentions toward Katara, he'd easily become a problem. Kid or no, he was still the Avatar and Jet didn't want to go head to head with him when Aang was actually trying to fight.

The Prince was aware of the eyes on him, turning stiffly to Aang to instruct him.

"Remember, fire is in the breath."

Aang nodded, head bobbing up and down like he'd heard this several times already. Jet braced himself, hands curled into tight fists, heart beat loud in this throat.

The Prince stepped back a pace, exhaling loudly as he punched. A wisp of delicate smoke burst from his knuckles. He cursed and tried again, kicking out a long trail of smoke. There was a tiny glimmer of fire this time.

"It's been like this all morning," Aang said, leaning over to whisper loudly in Katara's ear.

Jet barely felt his jaw move as he said noncommittally, "And before this morning?"

"It was different," Aang said.

Katara sounded as angry and tense as Jet felt.

"_Very_ different," she added.

Jet placed his hand on the rock, stretching out his arm just behind Katara's back. Just enough to touch. She didn't seem to notice, although she leaned into it. He bent his head down just enough to brush her ear.

"So why do you think he's holding back?" he asked softly.

* * *

The fire flickered as Aang, Sokka, and the Prince loaded Appa up with supplies well into the evening, after the rest of the group had gone to bed. Sokka seized Aang be the scruff of his neck, laughing as he wrestled the other boy to the ground. The Prince stopped loading for the barest of seconds, watching with a hooded expression, before climbing up on Appa to secure the bed rolls.

Jet watched from the fountain, idly skimming broken bits of temple across its surface.

He didn't buy this crap about how the Prince needed to find the true source of firebending for a second. He knew what firebending was – hate. And with the look the Prince gave him last night, there was no way he didn't feel that. He also knew the stories of the Prince's firebending. Back in his forest, Sokka had mentioned the "crazy, angry prince guy" who was always chasing them. More importantly, he'd heard what happened in Ba Sing Se, when the Prince joined forces with his sister to overthrow the city. Briefly, while preparing for the invasion, he'd overheard Katara hoping she'd see him again to settle that score once and for all.

So no, he didn't think the Prince really had lost his firebending, or that leaving Aang alone with him while they traveled even deeper into the Fire Nation was a good thing. And thankfully, Katara agreed.

Unfortunately, all that meant was that Sokka was going with them. No offense to Sokka, but Jet really didn't think he could stand up to a powerful firebender. Even when phrased that way, however, Sokka took _tons_ of offense. Better that he'd be gone and off Jet's back.

He shifted restlessly at the fountain, hand around one of the larger pieces of masonry, casting another look toward the Prince. He'd jumped down from Appa, patting the huge beast's side. He stilled as he felt Jet's eyes on him and then turned, striding over to Jet.

"What is it?" the Prince snapped.

Jet raised his eyebrows and skimmed the rock across the fountain. It bounced out, clattering against the tile. He dusted his hands off, displaying them innocently.

The Prince snarled, narrowing his eyes. He deliberately forced out a breath, pinching at the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm down.

"You are making this really hard."

Jet crossed his arms.

"Am I?"

The Prince dropped his hand, glaring at Jet through the messy fringe of his hair.

"What do you want me to do? I'm teaching the Avatar! I'm trying redeem myself! What will it take for you to accept that?"

"'Teaching the Avatar.' Sure you are." Jet laughed.

"I don't want to be controlled by hate anymore. I want to find another way."

"Why? All you need is someone to hate." Jet spread his arms out wide. "I'm right here."

The Prince flinched.

"What's your game?" he asked.

And Jet had thought that was obvious. He stood and closed the gap between them. He felt a shiver of excitement; so close to Li for the second time in two days. The shades of the fight in the Prince's room lingered, making Jet's pulse thud in his head.

"My game, Li, is proving you wrong."

The Prince shook his head slowly, jaw clenched and breathing that loud, deliberately calm pace that bespoke great danger. Jet leaned in, enjoying the sooty smell of the Prince's hair – from a day of failed firebending, no doubt – and before the Prince could pull away, Jet grabbed his jaw, pulling him in for a fierce kiss. His lips were soft under Jet's, but chapped, only beginning to respond when Jet released the other boy, pushing him back a pace.

The Prince looked stunned, eyes wide and expression uncertain. A sharp of doubt prickled at Jet. That wasn't how he was supposed to react. He was supposed to fight back, throw fire at Jet's head and reveal himself for the liar he was. He wasn't supposed to touch his fingers to his lips like that, he wasn't supposed to make Jet want to kiss him again.

Jet shook himself, turning away. He grabbed another piece of stone from the ground, tossing it up in the air to mime the casual air that once came so naturally to him. His steps were slow as he walked away, waiting and hoping for a response.

After a long moment, the Prince called out.

"My _name_ is Zuko!"


	3. Chapter 3

"But then where does it end?" Haru asked.

He sounded contemplative, voice mild although cut a little with breathlessness, as they tromped their way through the forest. Toph, up ahead in the lead knelt down for a moment, pressing her hand against the earth. Jet took the opportunity to pluck a long blade of grass, twirling it in his fingers as he leaned against a convenient tree, eyeing Haru skeptically. That guy was just too reasonable. It was annoying.

"With us dead," Jet replied flatly.

"I'm not ready to assume that. After Aang defeats the Fire Lord, who would you have on the throne?" Jet rolled his eyes. He was getting sick of the conceit that Aang even should fight the Fire Lord, but no one was interested in listening to any other plan. Haru's eyes glittered as he pressed on earnestly, "The Crown Prince is right here, helping us, and you'd throw that away? Why do you think General Iroh is a better choice?"

"I don't. _Neither_ is a good choice," he emphasized.

Haru shook his head.

"They have to be."

"They're _Fire Nation_!" Jet burst out. He crushed the stem of the grass in his hand as he clenched his fists, pushing off from the tree to advance on Haru. "They killed my family, sent you and your father to prison, enslaved your whole village! Why should they get rewarded with a throne and a pat on the head! Nothing in that country is worth saving! No one belongs on that throne!"

Except the Earth King, Jet thought, but even is his temper he knew well enough to hold back on that thought. He really didn't want to debate _which_ king or the supposed moral stickiness of simply reversing the conquest of the last hundred years.

"So then it doesn't end," Haru concluded. He sounded so damn tired, so sincere and sad that Jet immediately reared back, ready to punch him.

"Would you two biddies shut up already?" Toph asked. Jet stumbled, momentum lost and Haru was kind enough to catch him. Jet quivered with anger, brushing off Haru's help, and turning to aim an unseen glare at the little earthbender. "I'm tryin' to hunt here."

Haru mumbled a quick apology, elbowing Jet in the ribs when he didn't. Toph frowned to herself, shifting her feet to settle them deeper into the loamy soil. Another moment and she was off, charging forward with Haru and Jet running to catch up. It'd be easier if she actually walked with her feet instead of skating on the earth. His legs were more than twice as long as hers.

Voice pitched low, but no less intense, Jet hissed to Haru, "You were the one who called General Iroh a war criminal."

Haru shot a cautious look up at Toph.

"That just means I want justice – not revenge. And maybe if he really has changed…"

Jet snorted in disgust. Why did he think Haru's change of heart had more to do with the mean little earthbender Haru had been practicing with ever since they got here, and less to do with Haru's own opinions? Folding to a twelve year old, no matter how powerful and forceful in personality, was pretty sad.

"And maybe he has," Jet said loftily. "But do you want to risk it? And justice for the Dragon of the West _also_ means justice for Zuko."

Haru pressed his lips together, unwilling to concede the point, although Jet could already tell he had him.

"Aww, you called him 'Zuko'," Toph cooed. "Keep it up and I'll start thinking you like him."

She'd stopped again, this time in a clearing obviously wrought by her skill. Trees were shuffled off to the side, leaning and in a couple of case, piled atop each other. Grass was rucked up as if it were carpeting. And in the center, pinned by sharp thrusts of solid granite, was a large, angry boarcupine.

Toph grinned wildly, wandering foot making it clear she was reading their expressions. Jet suppressed a shudder as he remembered the last time she had read him, accurate enough to figure out his conflicted memories and tangled mind. Maybe it was a good thing she slept near the fountain, far, far away from his room.

"My work here is done," Toph declared. She stomped her way cheerfully past Haru, bumping into him on the way. Haru rubbed at the spot she'd hit. She called over her shoulder, "Your turn, boys. I don't do the dirty work."

The boarcupine squealed loudly, cutting through the awkward silence that had settled between them as they listened to Toph's footsteps getting fainter.

"Uh, so," Haru started eventually. He shot Jet a quizzical look, mustache quirked in a nervous smile. "I don't suppose you brought a knife?"

Jet hadn't. He'd assumed hunting would mean setting snares and idling away a few hours waiting for something to get caught, the same as it had in his forest on the days when Longshot was too busy with patrol to kill something and the Fire Nation traps were empty.

Haru hemmed and hawed for a moment before squeezing his eyes shut, exhaling, and firmly pushing out at one of the spires enclosing the boarcupine. The animal eyed the new opening and then pawing at it wildly, but Haru had chosen well. The snapped off shard was just the right size – big enough to use, but small enough that the boarcupine couldn't escape.

After waiting just long enough to realize that Haru had no intention of getting the knife himself, Jet edged his way over. He knelt to carefully pick up the knife.

The boarcupine bristled its quills, snorting and snarling at Jet through the spires.

Fine then. He hadn't been planning on bringing that thing back alive anyway.

Quite a while later, Jet and Haru triumphantly returned to the fountain camp with the large, dead boarcupine sheared entirely of its quills. Katara looked up just long enough to blink away her astonishment while Toph gave a small nod of approval. Jet refused to acknowledge how good that felt.

Haru slapped Jet on the back, smiling through his exhaustion and Jet smiled back, arrogance and anger gone for the moment.

The Duke pelted up to Jet, grabbing him around the middle for a hug. For a crazy camp of kids on a suicide mission, this wasn't half bad. Today, the camp felt a bit more like his forest. More like home.

"We found the coolest room, Jet!" The Duke said. His helmet tipped forward, obscuring his vision, and Jet gently pushed it back. "Well, Teo found it, but I helped. It's huge! And the ceiling is all painted with stars and bison and when the wind blows through everything _moves_!"

"Is that right? That does sound pretty cool. You should show me after dinner."

The Duke nodded vigorously, knocking his helmet forward again.

"And did you know that Teo met Zuko before?"

Jet stilled his hand, touching it against The Duke's helmet instead of moving it.

"I didn't know. When did that happen?"

And how?

The Duke cocked his head to the side, shaking off Jet's hand. He tilted his head all the way back to look at Jet with big eyes and a bigger grin.

"I don't know, when Zuko was bad, I guess. Teo said he seemed really bad and mean at first, but in the end he didn't hurt anyone, and that Zuko seems really different now but he's not surprised that he's good."

Jet clenched his teeth. What was _wrong_ with everyone?

He put on a casual laugh.

"Sounds like Teo's obsessed with him. Come on, The Duke, let's check out that room. Can't say I want to spend any more time thinking about Zuko than I have to."

Toph's snort of amusement echoed across the entire ravine.

* * *

Scattered applause filtered through the fountain area as Zuko and Aang completed their dance, fists pressed together and panting through their smiles. They dropped the pose, bowing to each other and turning to the assembled group.

"Nice dance," said Toph.

"It's not a dance!" Zuko snapped back immediately. "It's a sacred form that happens to be thousands of years old!"

"Oh yeah. What's it called?"

Zuko's expression wavered into an embarrassed frown.

"The Dancing Dragon," he mumbled.

The group laughed. Haru nudged Jet in the side, cocking his head toward Zuko like he thought Jet had somehow missed the funny moment. Jet stiffly ignored the gesture.

"So who taught you this?" Jet asked, not even trying to keep his tone civil.

Aang looked very excited, opening his mouth to speak, before Zuko's hand fell heavily on his shoulder. Aang buttoned up his mouth in an instant, shoulders slumping in embarrassment. He rubbed his hand over his bald head.

"Um, well, we learned it from…"

"Carvings," Zuko said. He'd crossed his arms, voice even and unyielding as he glared back at Jet. "There were carvings and we practiced what was in them."

"Right," Jet scoffed.

"It's true," Sokka interjected. He flailed his arms about, making gestures that presumably shaped the Sun Warrior ruins in his head. "They soaked up all the Sun Warrior vibes like I said they would from the temples and carvings and stuff!"

The group muttered and shrugged, apparently willing to go along with that story. There was a subtle shift in the dynamic as everyone prepared to go their separate ways. Jet looked around, frustration spilling over as he saw he was the only one who cared.

"Come on! You're not actually buying that, are you?" he shouted. He threw an arm out toward Sokka. "You sent him to keep track of Zuko and now he's _lying_ for him!"

"I'm not lying!" Sokka protested.

"Yeah, it's basically sort of mostly true," Aang added. He looked to Sokka for support, but Sokka had buried his face in his hands.

"What does that mean?" Katara asked.

Aang twiddled his thumbs.

"Um, I'm not allowed to talk about it?"

Katara's expression turned fierce, eyebrow knit together and eyes suspicious as she looked toward Zuko.

"Who's not allowing it?"

Sokka came between them, blocking Katara from advancing on Zuko while putting out an arm to bar Aang from pleading his case.

"Sis, you gotta trust my judgment on this one. We can't say, but we've got a good reason why."

"Why should we trust _you_, Sokka, when you're defending _him_?" Jet asked angrily.

Sokka casually stretched his arms up, cradling the back of his head as he cast an indifferent look Jet's way.

"I don't know, maybe because I was there and I know what happened. Or maybe because your judgment leads to entire villages of innocent people getting drowned."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Katara cut in. "Jet's changed."

Jet straightened at her words, and grinned outwardly when Haru chimed in, "He's helped us a lot around camp. I don't know what your history is, but he's more than made up for it."

"So's Zuko," Sokka replied simply. Jet ground his teeth. Somehow, he felt he should have expected Sokka and Zuko to come back as friends, but it still stung.

"Sorry to offend. I don't want to be mean about your new best friend," Katara said.

"Hey, feel free to be mean," Sokka said. Behind him, Zuko looked surprised and annoyed at the suggestion. "I just don't think you two are in any position to judge. Jet's got a bad record _as a person_ and Katara, sorry, but you don't have the best taste in people."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Katara asked, shocked.

Off to the side, Toph coughed into her hand, "Hama."

"And Jet," Sokka said, ticking off people on his fingers, "And Zuko the first time, no offense, buddy. And Aang."

"What did I do?" Aang protested.

"'Oh, the Avatar? Never met him!'" Sokka imitated. Aang flushed, cringing at the words.

"Oh, right," he mumbled.

"The point is," Sokka continued. "It's been days and we're still having the same stupid argument. Either we take what Zuko's done and give him the benefit of the doubt, or we don't."

"Fine then, you can say the same thing for Jet."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Sokka and Katara turned away from each other, stalking off into different parts of the temple.

Haru asked into the awkward, dead silence that had settled over the square, "So are we done?"

Zuko pressed his lips into a thin line, meeting Jet's eyes.

"I doubt it."

For once, Jet had to agree.


	4. Chapter 4

Jet tried.

He set snares and presented the group with meat; he looked after The Duke, making him wash up before and after meals; he tried to make friends with Teo, suppressing his irritation and the gnawing pit of inadequacy that formed in his stomach every time Teo went from talking about inventions to sketching them out in the dust; he avoided Zuko at every turn.

But Zuko didn't avoid him.

It couldn't be coincidence that Zuko was just _there_ every time Jet turned around. He offered Jet zhou at breakfast, sitting right across the circle so that every time Jet looked up he'd meet those sharp eyes. He trained Aang in all corners of the temple, always finding Jet wherever he'd retreated to. He even bathed after morning training in the exact temple that Jet took The Duke to. Who even did that? He was just going to get sweaty again after sword practice with Sokka. Why the need to be so meticulously clean?

Jet shooed The Duke out of the room after a cursory look at his half cleaned hands.

"Haru's cooking today," he told The Duke. "Better get it before Sokka does!"

That was more than enough motivation for The Duke to take off at run.

This part of the temple was hidden deep back into the recessed caves of the cliff wall, built to much the same design as the hanging temples, mimicked only on the inside. The smoothed stone of the cave wall became the stair step-like walls of a pagoda, lined with paintings and mosaics that almost fooled Jet into thinking they opened into the air. The floor sloped as if a roof, tiles set upside down. Above, the cave spread open to a square "base" that let all the forest sounds and sunlight come in directly. Down the well worn far wall, a stream emptied into the central pool before snaking into another wall to be used in other parts of the temple.

Zuko stood just next to the waterfall, shirtless with his pants slung low on his hips, as he ducked his head beneath the water. He scrubbed vigorously, apparently oblivious to Jet's presence.

Jet stared at the rivulets of water tracing Zuko's muscles. Well, at least he knew why Zuko wasn't washing in the fountain. This was indecent.

He'd already forgotten what he wanted to say by the time Zuko spoke.

"You should apologize to Katara," Zuko said without looking at him.

Jet immediately glared him.

"You should."

Zuko turned, blinking water from his eyes. His arm was still raised, trying to ruffle his hair dry.

"I did. She didn't accept. But she seems to like you better."

Jet pushed away the guilt he instantly felt at the thought. She liked him better because he'd done his damnedest to cultivate that – mostly through mutual hatred of Zuko.

"Maybe Sokka's right," Jet replied. He turned to leave, almost proud of himself for the civil conversation, despite the anger and arousal roiling through him. "Maybe she just has bad taste."

"Hey!" Jet stopped but didn't look, and that was enough for Zuko to cross the room, laying a wet hand on Jet's shoulder. Jet could feel Zuko's breath across his cheek and stilled himself, fighting the urge to do something violent. Zuko made an exasperated sound and dropped his hand, asking, "Why did you kiss me?"

Jet swiveled on his heels, smirking as he spread his arms out for a shrug.

"Just trying to make nice."

* * *

Jet woke early the next morning, some sound just beyond the register of his conscious mind startling him to alertness. He grimaced as he listened, instincts honed by a life on the run, but the sound – whatever it was – didn't come again. Cautiously, he rose from his pallet, bare foot coming down directly onto a pebble.

He jerked his head up, eyes finding Zuko where he leaned in the doorway. His scar was half hidden by the shadows of the hall; the untouched side lit by thin dawn light that only made his fine features more striking. The expression on his face was determined, cut only by a slight smirk. Enough to give away his intentions: matching Jet move for move in his game. In Zuko's palm, he had a collection of pebbles. He tossed them into the air and caught them, just to make a point, before dumping the whole lot onto the floor.

Jet rubbed his hand over his face, flopping back down onto his bed. His heart was racing, surprise fueled by unfulfilled anticipation.

"Hey, Jet?" The Duke asked softly, his voice heavy with sleep. Jet leaned up on his elbows, trying to get a good look at the kid. Plenty of the orphans back in the forest had a habit of talking in their sleep. But The Duke seemed awake, if not fully so, one arm hooked over his helmet where it rested next to his bed to meet Jet's eyes. "Are you two going to fight again?"

It took a moment for Jet to remember The Duke didn't know about the fight in Zuko's room – just the arguments near the fountain. He forced himself to relax, giving a flippant answer, "Don't know."

"I hope you don't. Everyone ends up fighting. It's so much nicer here when everyone's not fighting. Not like the forest." A huge yawn cracked across The Duke's face. He settled back limply, words almost inaudible, "The forest was never nice."

Jet took the words like a punch in the gut, staring across the room at The Duke, sprawled in childish and deep slumber.

He was in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

The group gave him a wide berth, still uneasy after the argument that fractured them into factions. Aang and Zuko silently left mid-breakfast for their training, awkwardly ending the meal for everyone else. If not for The Duke's earlier words, Jet would have thought he was immune. He raced off in front of Teo, some prize held aloft as he dared the other boy to catch him, but it was obvious that he just wanted to be gone, too. The tension was deadly.

So Jet retreated.

His footsteps were already taking him up above the temple, when he was struck anew by his frustration and disgust. Not the forest. He was going to stay in the temple, try to make this work.

Jet went instead to the storeroom he and Sokka had pillaged for food. Light spilled down from the skylight, illuminating the pillars and arches of the room and the multifarious goods on the shelves beneath. A branch swayed through the light, briefly covering the skylight, and Jet shuddered. He could climb the walls, find his way out of here…

He sat down on the floor, eyes deliberately shut against the temptation. He laid out flat, almost blinded by the sunlight, but when his vision cleared he could pick out the detail the Air Nomads had left behind in brightly colored tile. The pieces were uneven, hewn from who knows what rock, and glazed over with paints Jet had no idea how to make. Somehow they fitted together, becoming swirls of clouds on bright blue lacquer, shaggy Air Bison between them.

Jet grimaced, feeling a wave of self-loathing and anger come over him. There was a lot he'd never learned because he'd never had the chance. It would be so easy to just let it go – sometimes he honestly felt that way. He could ignore every tragedy that had happened in his life, all the blood and ash, and bob his head along cheerfully with all of Sokka's stupid jokes and plans. He could fit in.

But why the fuck _should_ he? He clenched his hands into fists as he stared at the ceiling and, pushing that anger down into his gut, he levered himself upright. He didn't need to hide and it wasn't fucking right that he felt he should even for a moment.

He swept through the temple with determination, oblivious to his surroundings as he navigated the twisting corridors, destination in mind. There, in his room, his shuang gou were propped in a corner. Jet's eyes ran over them, taking in the ill use and even more ill care he'd given them since the invasion. Unsharpened and uncared for, he felt a tight snap of anger at himself for being so stupid.

But he didn't have time to fix that at the moment. He picked up the weapons, hands holding them loosely, blades pointed at the ground. They felt comfortable.

It was already past lunchtime when he found Zuko and Sokka in the fountain square. They were mid way through one of their sword lessons, Zuko with his swords unsheathed and he demonstrated a two handed technique. Sokka was barely watching, hip hitched up on the fountain as he leaned in, splashing his bare chest to wash away the sweat of exertion.

Jet watched them from afar, swamped by anger and guilt and that gnawing, persistent feeling that what he felt toward Zuko wasn't anger at all.

Zuko halted in his demonstration, walking over to harangue Sokka. His temper eased with Sokka's good humor and soon they were both grinning and bantering, lesson forgotten.

The squawk of Sokka's laughter echoed across the platform, startling Jet back to attention.

"_I'm bushed_! Ha! Oh, that's a good one," he gasped out, grinning as he slapped Zuko on the back.

Jet ground his teeth together, eyebrows twitching at the sight.

"Zuko!" he called out. He hefted his swords, adjusting his grip on them. Light glinted off them, scattered around the platform. Zuko looked over his way, expression set and unresponsive. "We're settling this."

Zuko drew back from Sokka, picking up his blades from where he'd rested them against the fountain. He nodded shortly.

"Aw, really?" Sokka complained. He slouched, petulantly picking up his own gleaming black sword. Jet tensed, but rather than backing Zuko up, Sokka simply went back to polishing the blade. He flicked his fingers at Jet. "Fine, go ahead if you're gonna."

But no matter how unserious Sokka was about this, the rest of the group disagreed. They gathered from the corners of the temple platform, watching with trepidation as Jet circled Zuko. Except for Teo, when Jet chanced a look. His eyes were wide, that genial expression again on his permanently curious face.

"Is it true you can firebend your swords, Zuko?" he asked excitedly.

Fire immediately sprang along the edges of Zuko's blades. Jet glared back at Teo. He had never hated a kid more than he hated Teo in that moment.

Zuko took the opening, sweeping out a powerful kick aimed at Jet's feet and following the same line of motion with his flaming sword. Jet felt the heat against his face, smelled hair sizzle and burn as he stumbled backward, just barely dodging. He righted himself, coming up on the balls of his feet as he danced away. He looked up long enough to lock eyes with Zuko, who smirked back at him.

Jet growled, throwing himself forward. If there was one thing he'd admired in Zuko when they fought in Ba Sing Se, anything that made him feel the battle was lost and that he was outmatched, it was Zuko's steely, determined attitude. He didn't banter, no matter how much Jet baited him. He didn't laugh and he definitely didn't plead. He tried to kill Jet, nothing more and nothing less.

But not right now. Now he was playing. He was flirting.

Zuko parried Jet's blow and pushed it aside with the blade in his other hand, steel bright with fire as it skittered down the length of Jet's shuang gou. He gripped the hilt of his sword harder, sweat running between his fingers with the heat of the fire. Grunting, Jet push back against Zuko, breaking the contact of their swords. Zuko settled back easily on his feet, fire of his blades pulsing with his breathing.

"What is this supposed to settle, Jet?"

"You know," Jet said back, breathless through the swings of his blades. They locked together and he jammed his sword down, using the hook to pull Zuko's blade out of his hand. It went flying, landing somewhere at the very edge of the platform. Jet advanced on Zuko, who tossed his sword into his right hand casually.

"They already know I'm a firebender."

"You're a killer, just like the Fire Lord. Just like your beloved uncle."

The playful expression faded from Zuko's face. Jet smiled grimly. This was exactly what he was looking for. He hooked his two shuang gou together, swinging the bladed hilt at Zuko to drive him even further back.

He paced around Zuko, looking for an opening. He caught sight of the rest of the group watching, edgy expressions transforming into outright worry. From the corner of his eye, he saw Aang take up his staff and Katara place a restraining hand on his shoulder.

Jet feinted to the right and dove instead to the left when Zuko struck out to block him. Jet rolled on the tile, keeping tucked it as he hooked his sword around Zuko's ankle. Zuko sputtered as he went down, cracking his head hard against the ground. Jet took the opportunity to tackle him, swords discarded for the moment.

They rolled over twice with the force of the tackle, crowd parting as Jet's shoulder slammed hard into the edge of the fountain. Zuko tried to get his feet back under him, leveraging for dominance. Jet rose up to his knees, pushing back as much as he could, trying to hold Zuko down to the dusty tile, but Zuko got the upper hand and they fell backward together into the fountain with a splash.

Jet gasped for air, trying to keep his head out of the water. Zuko loomed over him, pinning Jet's hips in place with his own, hands on his shoulders. Jet squirmed against him, getting hard and feeling Zuko's hardness in return. Zuko's determined expression flickered, turning to surprise, and then back again. Jet only had a moment to get his hands between them before Zuko pushed him back down into the water, kissing him with force.

Despite himself, Jet's hands clutched at the back of Zuko's head, pulling him in closer.

"Is it just me?" Toph asked into the silence. "Or did that just get weird?"

"It's not just you," Sokka replied.

Jet's eyes flew open as he realized what he was doing – he'd come here to fight Zuko, to force him out of the group forever, not to _fuck_ him. And definitely not with an audience. He fumbled in his belt for his last remaining weapon, the stone knife Haru had made from the boarcupine cage, pushing it threateningly into Zuko's stomach as he bit down hard on Zuko's lip.

Zuko pushed him away in shock, swiping at the blood on his lip.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" he snapped. "I thought you wanted that!"

"What I want is you gone!"

Jet brandished the knife, standing in the fountain. His wet shirt stuck to his skin and his hair flopped awkwardly into his face. He swiped at it angrily, fixing a glare at Zuko where he sat in the pool of water, thoroughly soaked and tense with anger.

"You've got a weird way of showing it," Zuko groused. He flung out an arm, water droplets scattering into the air only to part in front of Katara. She didn't forget to glare at him for it. "You stalk me when I'm sleeping, harass me every chance you get, and kiss me! What was I supposed to think?"

"That's a pretty good point, actually," Sokka said from the sidelines.

"If you're crazy and have a crazy definition of romance," Toph snorted. She paused, thinking. "Which makes a lot of sense for Zuko, now that I think of it."

"You're right, it does make sense," Aang said brightly. Jet shook himself, shooting Aang a confused look. He saw Aang nudge Katara. "They'd be great together!"

Katara didn't get the hint, frowning deeply instead. Haru was similarly unimpressed. He walked directly over to Jet and, in a quick move, kicked the knife Jet still wielded out of his hand. It skittered across the tile, landing near the firepit and cooled cook pot. The group was stunned, staring at Haru with no less confusion than they'd given to the fight itself. Jet's eyes were drawn away from Haru, though, toward The Duke where he stood off to the side, shoulders hunched and face hidden by the tilt of his helmet.

A hard weight in formed Jet's stomach and his clothes suddenly felt very cold. He pushed himself to look away from The Duke.

"What are you doing?" Haru demanded. His jaw was clenched, but he plowed on before Jet had time to explain. "You spend all that time talking to me, trying to convince me to kick Prince Zuko out, and all that time you were kissing him?"

"It was just the once, actually," Zuko said. By this point, though, no one was even looking at him.

"What happened to justice?" Haru asked.

There were murmurs through the group.

The water rippled around Jet's feet as Zuko stood. He stepped out of the fountain, circling around to stand next to Haru, eyes darting between them.

"Justice? You mean turning me in. Go ahead, send me back to my father," Zuko snarled. He gestured to his face. "I'm sure he'd be happy to finish the job!"

Jet reeled. He knew what that scar was, he'd said it himself all that time ago, but its reality had somehow disappeared the moment he found out Li was a firebender. That Li was a prince.

He shook his head, pushing away the thought. It didn't matter. Why couldn't they understand? There was no redemption, not for a killer like him.

"You think I'm going to just let you go back into the forest and follow us? That's just where you want to be. You'd never let us rest! _You don't belong here_!" he shouted.

"Why do you keep saying 'you'?" Sokka asked suddenly. His arms were crossed over his chest, voice biting and cynical. "It's obvious you're just talking about yourself."

Jet swung about, hands dangling uselessly at his sides. He had a phantom feeling of rock manacles closing around his wrists, the memories of Ba Sing Se flooding back in an instant. There he'd stared at a crowd, watching in shock and horror as they ignored him, letting him be hauled off to hell. He swallowed desperately against his fear, seeing it happen again with another burden around his neck – this time, he deserved it.

"You're right, Jet," Katara said. Stiffly, Jet met her eyes. The deep anger in them was hardened by the firm, unforgiving set of her jaw. "You don't belong here."


	5. Chapter 5

The Duke hadn't said goodbye. He'd taken off his helmet, giving one solemn little nod. A reminder that this was not the first time Jet had left, that The Duke had never expected anything better.

That was what stayed with Jet over the next day, as he laid out in the treetops, staring up at the deep blue sky with an intense feeling of vertigo. Adapting to the temple hadn't been easy, but it seemed that adapting back to the forest would be even worse.

Jet pushed himself to get by – finding food, forcing himself to eat, trying to find something other than deadness inside to motivate himself. Where there had been burning anger, there was nothing, only a distant sense of disgust that he didn't want to look too closely at. He knew Sokka had been right, he hated only the reflection of himself he saw in Zuko. He knew Katara was right.

He'd never been a coward, but he shied away from those thoughts now. They'd kill him if he let them, and he was too proud to die at his own hand in the place he should call home.

The silence pressed in around him, even the sounds of animals seeming to disappear. Jet had never been comfortable in silence. He'd surrounded himself with friends and admirers, making noise to keep the world at bay. Maybe that was why he gravitated into the middle of the forest, above the area of temple he had mentally mapped out. When he strained his ears, he thought he could hear Sokka's ridiculous laugh or the clack of Teo's wheels on the stone.

Belatedly, it occurred to Jet to search for Zuko's war balloon. He remembered Toph's vague description of where it was – useful more to blind earthbenders to anyone else, really – and started off before he had truly considered what he was doing. It was only when the broad red balloon loomed up in his vision, still propped over branches as a make shift tent, that he felt his resolve weaken. He stared at the balloon, trying to summon up the anger he had felt before, the surety in his own righteousness.

There was nothing in there. He didn't have to look to know that.

He turned back, marching through the forest. It was patchy and not well covered, with none of the thickness of his own forest. The sun burned on the back of Jet's neck as he walked, eyes fixed on the blades of grass crushed beneath his feet.

Eventually, he found one of the skylights that opened into the temple – the one supplying the temple's many pipelines, fed by a gushing river.

Jet climbed into the tree, branches directly hanging over the waterfall, and finally managed to sleep.

He woke many times in the night, exhaustion apparently not enough to keep out the unsettling sounds of the forest. Jet gritted his teeth in anger and disbelief. He hadn't been away that long. Wind through the trees and croaking of badgerfrogs shouldn't be enough to wake him.

In the morning, he jumped down from the trees, stumbling as he missed the landing. His eyes ached with tiredness and he felt more worn down than ever.

The bushes rustled and twigs cracked under feet. Jet tensed, cursing himself for leaving his swords behind at the fountain.

Finally, Aang burst through into the clearing.

"Jet!" he called. His yellow and saffron robes were dirtied by his tromp through the forest, a relieved expression on his face. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Jet slouched back against his tree, looking away.

"Why?"

Aang blinked. He jumped over the river in a single bound, landing lightly in front of Jet.

"Because you should come back."

Jet tilted his head to the side, offering a dark half smile.

"You can't trust me, Aang. You never should have."

Aang watched him quietly, eyebrows furrowed as he thought. Slowly, he said, "The monks taught me to always trust first, because you can never say your intentions are better than anyone else's, and you should never regret what comes from taking a chance on someone."

Jet scoffed.

"I can't believe you've lived this long."

"Well, I can't say it always works," Aang admitted. He scratched behind one ear, nose scrunched up in embarrassment. "I mean, Hama…"

They kept bringing that lady up. Briefly, Jet wondered if he should ask; the words died on his lips. It didn't matter if he knew.

"But my point is that _you_ trusted me, Jet, and you weren't wrong. You trusted all of us, and maybe me most of all. We're here to fight together. You should be a part of that."

Jet crossed his arms obstinately.

"I didn't trust Zuko. I tried to _kill him_."

Aang cringed. It was clear he'd been hoping Jet wouldn't bring that up.

"Well, uh…"

Jet pushed away from the tree, looming over Aang.

"What are you even doing here? Are you just afraid that if you don't keep an eye on me I'll come back and slit his throat in the night?" Jet felt flat, felt like he was thinned out, nothing left on the inside to keep him whole. He tried to put emotion into his words, but they hung in the air, dead and meaningless, "Maybe I'll do it!"

Aang shook his head, gray eyes filled with concern.

"Sokka was wrong, you know," he said. "Katara has great taste. She saw the best in us before we even knew it was there."

He backed away, turning sadly to go.

That was enough to get to Jet; he felt something snap to life inside him.

"Why did you come here?" he shouted at Aang's back.

And very distantly, the answer floated back to him, "Zuko asked me to."

* * *

Jet checked his snares and cooked the hedghobbit he found over a small fire for lunch. He poked at the fire restlessly, willing it to burn hotter, but with no stomach to build it up with more wood. Of all things, he wasn't going to do that.

He climbed his tree as he waited, happy that the rush of water blocked the pop and crackle of the meat on the fire. Lounging on a tree branch, staring at the mottled sky half blocked out by leaves, he couldn't help but long for his own red leafed forest in the Earth Kingdom, where it was always autumn, always sunset. He knew who he was there – a fighter and a killer, and a manipulative bastard as well. Wanting to change had gotten him nowhere, just left him behind, stymied as he realized everything else was changing and nothing was right.

Jet sighed, getting ready to jump down, when something whizzed overhead. He jerked upright, almost losing his balance and falling from the tree. Right in front of him, imbedded deep into the trunk of the tree, was the stone knife he'd left behind at the fountain. Jet reached out, pulling it free with some effort.

"You forgot it," Zuko called up to him.

Heart beating fast in his chest, Jet turned the knife over in his hands. His eyebrows twitched up of their own accord. His eyes flicked down. Zuko was standing on the edge of the skylight, between Jet and the rushing water. The mist wetted his hair, making his hang limply into his face. Zuko pushed it aside – off of his scar. Jet felt his stomach clench at the sight.

"I don't think you really want me to have this!"

Zuko looked down, and very faintly, Jet thought he said, "Fine, we'll do this the hard way."

Jet felt sluggish, knife heavy in his hands. He watched as Zuko punched upward in a slow, smooth motion. Jet's eyes tracked it in shock as flame caught on the outer branches, young green leaves burning pungently.

Without thinking, he swung down from the tree, arms loose and ready for a brawl, but Zuko was too quick. He closed in on Jet, pinning him against the tree. Jet could hear the crackle of the fire above. He curled his hand into a fist, joints creaking as he resisted the panic threatening to overtake him.

In his other hand, he still had the knife. Zuko's hand closed around his wrist, bringing it up to pressed the knife to Zuko's own throat. Jet's fingers felt weak, not his own. He tried to catch his breath, but all he could taste was the smoke.

"But _you_ want it, don't you?" Zuko hissed out. "This is what you want. My blood on your hands."

This didn't make sense, Jet thought blearily. Why would Zuko send Aang if he just wanted another fight? Jet tried to figuring it out, but his mind was getting fuzzy. He felt drunk on his memories. The heat of the fire above felt the same as the death of his parents; the misty waterfall was the chill of Lake Laogai.

With a strangled cry, he pushed Zuko away. He fell to his knees, knife slipping from his fingers. He pressed his hands to the earth, trying to feel it through the wet grass and fallen leaves.

"No," he said roughly.

"'No' what?" Zuko asked. He knelt down next to Jet, reaching out tentatively to touch him on the shoulder. Jet jerked, looking up to see Zuko's demanding expression. "You don't want revenge?"

Jet exhaled hard, staring at him. He swallowed back against his rage and fear. He'd wanted revenge for so long he couldn't even imagine not wanting it. What kind of person didn't want revenge for their parents? For their country?

He didn't know.

"I want to be something different from what I am," he said eventually. He looked away, frowning to himself, and added in frustration," Whatever that is."

Abruptly, the noise and the heat of the fire disappeared. Jet looked up to see Zuko closing his palm, extinguishing all the flame with a single gesture. He had a thin, approving smile, like he'd somehow expected things to go this way. Jet breathed easier, for all that he knew he owed it to Zuko.

"How did you do it? How did you change?" Jet asked.

That was what it came down to. Jet could see all of his own flaws and all of his own crimes, but it'd been too easy to cover them up with a cause. He could paste on a veneer of righteousness and use his anger to make himself feel like he was doing the right thing for once, but that exact thing had landed him here. Alone in the forest with the smell of ash in the air.

"It's not going to be easy," Zuko warned him. He sighed, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "I don't even know what I can tell you! I didn't change – not really. I just found something new. I finally figured out what I really wanted."

His golden eyes were solemn as they met Jet's.

"That's why I want to know. Do you want me – or do you want me dead?"

Jet reached out, running his thumb over Zuko's scarred cheekbone. That was something the Fire Lord had done to him, his own father.

"I want to win the war," Jet said fiercely.

Zuko batted his hand aside, glaring.

"And then what?"

Jet pounded his fist against the ground. He hated that he had to answer these questions, and hated even more that he wasn't sure. He had to make this choice, though. There was just no way to keep going with this anger inside him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched.

"And then I let it go. I'm done."

"Good," Zuko said. He leaned in long enough to brush a kiss across Jet's cheek. Jet shivered at the contact. It was startling to know that he could finally have what he wanted – that it was freely given.

He swallowed back against a sudden rush of emotion. There was so much he needed to do, he almost baffled at where to start. He needed to find The Duke, prove himself, and he needed to apologize to Katara and Haru. And then maybe… maybe something real could begin.

There was the sound of clothing rustling as Zuko stood. When Jet opened his eyes, it was to Zuko leaning down, hand extended. Without hesitation, Jet took it. Zuko raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't forget the knife."

Jet stooped down to grab it and flipped it over his hand, presenting it back to Zuko, who brushed him off. Bemused, Jet stuck it back into his belt. Zuko's hand followed his, sliding across his back to hold him firmly around the waist. They walked that way back to camp, heat from Zuko seeping into Jet's clothes, keeping him warm and never for a moment letting him forget it was a firebender he held.

And strangely enough, that felt pretty good.


End file.
